Saturday, May 30, 2020

FILM REVIEW: TOKYO TRIBE


Sion Sono has spent his entire career pushing the boundaries of sex and violence in cinema. He doesn’t do this simply to be a provocateur; instead, Sono is confronting viewers to sympathize with those in the margins of society whom we usually shun. Through his portraits of prostitutes, gangsters, and criminals, Sono is like a modern day Rainer Werner Fassbinder, and like Fassbinder, Sono wants to shed light on the dark corners of the human soul to give voice to the voiceless.

With Tokyo Tribe (2014), Sono is exploring the lives of youth who turn to gangsterism because it offers an outlet for creative expression for them. Rap and hip-hop music is rooted in the culture of inner city gangs in the African-American community, but Sono is viewing how Asian youth gangs take on this art form. Based on the popular manga series by Santa Inoue, Tokyo Tribe is the story of a turf war between various gangs in an alternate, futuristic Tokyo. The main players in this war are Show (Shōta Shometani), Sunmi (Nana Seino), Young Dais (Kai Deguchi), Mera (Ryōhei Suzuki), and Buppa (Riki Takeuchi). Each of these characters take on a prominent role in their respective gangs.


Tokyo Tribe is one of Sion Dino’s most expensive productions, and it shows in the intricately elaborate set design with its pop-art-like, bright color palette that recalls early MTV music videos and the paintings of outlaw graffiti artists like Daze and Banksy. There are gold-plated tanks, chainsaw-like bazookas, and a sort of human installation sculpture garden that recalls Salo and A Clockwork Orange. Also, Tokyo Tribe wouldn’t be a Sion Sono film without its share of over-the-top violence, including an absolutely bonkers musical fight sequence that ends with a giant, flesh shredding fan.

The cinematography in Tokyo Tribe, courtesy of Daisuke Sōma, vividly captures the throbbing energy of Sion Sono’s vision. The opening crane shot (filmed in a single, long uninterrupted cut) follows the character Show as he guides the viewer through a vibrant Tokyo cityscape at night, filled with vagrant youth, scantily clad prostitutes, and a DJ’ing grandma. Like his previous masterpiece Love Exposure, the camera moves freely through space and time, mirroring the many exhilarating and expertly staged fights sequences and musical numbers.


All of this technical bravado wouldn’t mean anything if it wasn’t in the service of a deeper purpose, and Tokyo Tribe is indeed more than just an exercise in style over substance. Ultimately, Tokyo Tribe is about the power of youthful idealism over nihilism. The battle between the various gangs in the film is a battle of light over darkness, of hope over fashionable pessimism. Sono reveals how the garishly violent Buppa and his gang only perpetuates an endless cycle of death and destruction, while the more optimistic characters of Show and Sunmi lead the turf war forward towards peace and love.

Indeed, the youth gang represented by Show, Sunmi, and Young Dais spend their time in the film at a 1950s style, brightly colored cafe, where they use hip-hop to celebrate positivity and love for each other. This contrasts with Buppa’s dark and bloody lifestyle, which is filled with gratuitous sex and violence, as most blatantly symbolized by his tendency towards cannibalism. Also, Buppa’s mansion is filled with instruments of death and torture, which contrasts sharply with the serenity of the youth cafe.


Tokyo Tribe ends on a wave of positive energy as Show leads a group of youth in an invigorating and uplifting hip-hop musical number about love and solidarity. By doing so, Sono is contrasting the criminal landscape of Tokyo we see at the opening crane shot sequence with a more hopeful conclusion. It is no coincidence that Buppa and his tribe are older than the gangs represented by Show and Sunmi. Like Jean-Luc Godard’s Masculin Feminin, Tokyo Tribe is a celebration of the power of youthful idealism over aging cynicism and disenchantment.


Friday, May 22, 2020

FILM REVIEW: THE GREAT BUDDHA+


I saw the Taiwanese film The Great Buddha+ (2017) during a visit to Taiwan in 2017, and I still haven’t forgotten about it. The Great Buddha+ is the clever and dryly amusing feature debut film of Huang Hsin-yao, a former documentary filmmaker. It was shortlisted for the 2018 Best Foreign Film Academy Awards category, and won several international awards, including Best Film from mainland China and Taiwan at the Hong Kong Film Awards, and six Golden Horse Awards.

What makes The Great Buddha+ such a remarkable film is its skillful mixture of satiric comedy and social commentary on class relations in modern day Taiwan. It is the story of a night security guard and his bumbling friend (who go by the names of Pickle and Belly Button) both of whom live in poverty and work for Kevin, a wealthy businessman who owns a Buddha statue manufacturing factory. One night, out of boredom, the two friends start investigating the dashcam footage of their boss’ car, and in the process discover dark hidden secrets about the businessman’s nighttime activities.


While this plot summary makes The Great Buddha+ sound like a traditional thriller, the way the film is shot is much more interesting. Huang, with his background in documentary film, lets the scenes play out naturally, as if he was observing real life without any cinematic artifice. We observe the day to day lives of the two main characters, as they find ways to get by while living on the margins of society.  Belly Button spends his days scavenging for items to recycle for money, and Pickle finds ways to keep his wealthy boss Kevin happy, while amusingly trying to find the right time to ask for a raise.

The humor in The Great Buddha+ comes from the sometimes absurd dialogue and darkly funny situations, such as a scene where Pickle gets cheated into buying a pair of sunglasses that he doesn’t need. Indeed, much of The Great Buddha+ is about power relations and dynamics between Pickle and his businessman boss Kevin, and between Pickle himself and his friend Belly Button. The laconic and droll humor of The Great Buddha+ is reminiscent of Aki Kaurismaki, who also makes films that examine the plight of those whom society traditionally ignores.


The tone of The Great Buddha+ gradually changes as Pickle and Belly Button start exploring the dashcam footage of Kevin, which evolves from late night dalliances with his mistresses to much darker matters. These scenes with Kevin’s activities play out in a unique manner, as they are shown through dashcam footage played out in realtime; we hear audio of the boss talking and seducing the different women he has affairs with, but we only see the road ahead as the car drives through the daytime and nighttime streets. Viewers are forced to imagine what they are hearing, which makes the later turn into more disturbing discoveries even more effective.

Without giving anything away, by the time that Pickle and Belly Button have discovered the dark, hidden secrets of Kevin’s nighttime sojourns, The Great Buddha+ effectively turns into a thriller of sorts. However, there is no bombastic music to pummel you with suspense; instead, Huang continues to observe the daily lives of his characters with the same non-obtrusive documentary-like manner. Pickle and Belly Button, who have spent much of the film looking up to and admiring the wealthy Kevin, now see him for the despicable person that he actually is.


By quietly and patiently letting the story of his characters play out naturally, Huang rewards the audience with an emotionally powerful climax that has deeper resonance. While the world is filled with those who struggle to get by, such as Pickle and Belly Button, and those who prey on others to obtain great financial wealth and power, like Kevin, in the end everyone meets the same fate. The Great Buddha+ ends with a Buddhist ceremony taking place, as if to memorialize the lives of its characters. Although those who are less fortunate may be forgotten and ignored during their lives, Huang is showing that they too are still human, and their story is just as important as that of the rich and the powerful.





Saturday, May 9, 2020

FILM REVIEW: ATLANTICS



Atlantics (2019) is a mysterious and beguiling film that completely draws the viewer into its hypnotic spell. Directed by the Senegalese/French filmmaker Mati Diop, the niece of the legendary Djibril Diop Mambéty, Atlantics begins as a love story that turns into something much more enigmatic and complex. Diop keeps revealing more layers of meaning and surprises as Atlantics progresses, culminating in a touching and powerful coda.

Set in the capital city of Dakar in Senegal, Atlantics is the story of Ada (Mame Bineta Sane), a young woman who is in love with Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré), but is bethrothed to marry the wealthy Omar (Babacar Sylla). After Souleiman is unable to get paid for his work at a construction company, he resorts to the desperate measure of taking a boat with his coworkers to Spain to find employment. Without giving anything away, the risky boat trip sets into motion a series of mysterious and supernatural events for Ada and her seaside community.


By calling her protagonist Ada, Diop alludes to Jane Campion’s The Piano. Like Campion’s protagonist in The Piano, Ada in Atlantics is a strong-willed woman who engages in a forbidden love affair. Also like the protagonists in Campion’s Bright Star and Top of the Lake, Ada is forever seeking a way out of her restrictive, male-dominated society, and in the process define her own identity as a woman.

Another similarity to The Piano is the important role of the ocean and nature in Atlantics. Throughout the film, Diop focuses her camera on the vast and majestic Atlantic Ocean. For the characters in Atlantics, the ocean is both a symbol of escape, and also a harbinger of tragedy. Souleiman seeks a better future for himself by escaping across the ocean, while Ada views the ocean as something that traps her within her family and unwanted marriage. Throughout Atlantics, Diop reveals how confined Ada feels, by framing her through fences and other man-made barriers. Ada’s only form of solace is a night club where she regularly goes with her friends.


Diop’s use of color and sound creates both a comforting and at times threatening environment, mirroring Ada’s journey through the film. When Ada is at the club, she is bathed in an otherworldly green light, while we hear the powerful waves of the ocean in the background. Indeed, Diop regularly cuts to alternatingly calm and ominous shots of the ocean, depending on Ada’s situation. Diop is more interested in creating a certain mood and tone than telling a straightforward narrative, and she successfully envelopes the viewer in her visually poetic world. Cinema is a primarily visual medium, and Diop has a complete mastery over this aspect of film.


With Atlantics, Diop carefully weaves an enchanting and at times eerie tale of doomed love and female empowerment. Although Ada struggles against many outside forces which try to control her, the concluding shot of Atlantics shows Ada coming to a satisfying self-realization. Spirits and ghosts appear throughout Atlantics, doomed lovers reunite, family members and friends argue and reconcile with each other, and all this is masterfully crafted by Diop; she is truly an exciting and powerful talent to watch.